


In Service of the King

by Unquiet_Words



Category: Naruto
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, M/M, Royalty, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-20
Updated: 2019-02-20
Packaged: 2019-10-31 03:28:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,728
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17841584
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Unquiet_Words/pseuds/Unquiet_Words
Summary: Smut written out of sheer spite for anti-shippers.





	In Service of the King

**Author's Note:**

> Found out someone whose art I greatly admire got flames for liking this pairing, so I wrote this smut in their honor.
> 
> Kinda a rough draft tbh, but couldn't find the motivation to edit it further.

There were full days where Madara loathed his position, despite the many advantages and privileges that came with it. When his advisers droned on about situations outside of his control, small details so far from interesting it took all of his self-control not to fidget or groan on his throne. It had been one of those days already, though one would be hard pressed to even call it afternoon yet, and the fact that it had followed the worst night of sleep possibly in his _life_ only made it worse.

Why they thought he needed to know about every speck of dust on their parchments was beyond him. He had to focus on a point above their head, staring at the doors to the throne room, just to keep up the appearance that he cared at all. Yes, the agricultural department had its uses, and yes they were _very important_ uses, but he had named this damned idiot the _head_ of that department _for a reason_ . Crops and plants were a mystery to him, and with the whole kingdom placed on his shoulders he hardly had time to pick up _another_ subject to study.

He was busy keeping himself in check by inwardly reciting all the stuffy, pretentious poetry he’d had to memorize as a child when the throne room doors were thrown open, his right hand storming into the room and giving a sweeping bow once he’d approached the dias.

“Forgive me, my liege, but I have urgent news.” Izuna stood straight once more, not paying any mind to the man he’d interrupted, who was now glancing nervously between Madara and his brother.

‘Urgent news.’ That at least helped Madara stay focused, giving a miniscule frown in thought as he flicked his wrist in gesture for his brother to continue. Either he actually had business with him, or his day might actually get interesting…

“A missive has arrived from a relative. It would be best discussed in private.”

Madara forced himself to sit still for a few moments, to appear unrushed while he considered the suggestion. No matter that he wanted to sag in relief and shudder in delight at the offer, knowing now _exactly_ why his brother was here. They’d done this song and dance enough times for him to know there was no missive, and he would gladly accept such a delicious distraction.

“Leave us.” It was a flippant command, Madara not even bothering to look at anyone in the room. His agricultural advisor would simply have to wait to continue his unnecessary and dull speech, and everyone else waiting to speak with him would have to get over themselves for a good hour or so. The only two he had to say any more than that to were the guards stationed at the side ends of his dias, catching their attention with a tap of one finger against the hard throne arm, jerking his head to tell them to leave as well.

If it had been anyone else requesting to speak with him alone, his guards would have stayed. That’s the only reason he gave them leeway in their hesitance. Soon enough, the final door was shut, the sound echoing off the walls in the quiet around them.

Usually, this would have been when Madara’s mask would break. It might have been many years since Izuna technically had the right to call him brother, having lost the political status that allowed him to be familiar with the king when he’d renounced his own title as a prince. That said, in the few hours they could steal in private, Madara was all too thankful to slip back into the role of being an older brother - someone who could tease and harass with little care, without the weight of thousands of people resting in every word and command he spoke.

It’s the recent revelation of exactly _why_ Izuna was so keen to ‘call upon him’ in such a setting that kept him from doing so then. Gasped pleas in the heat of the moment, unwitting confessions on how his brother loved to serve him - being forced to play the stoic, aloof king might be taxing when it’s demanding of him every second of his life, but Madara’s more than willing to play a little longer if it meant pleasing his little brother.

He let the silence drag on for a minute between them, bored eyes trained on the man standing at attention before him belied by the way his blood rushed hot through his veins. Only when he saw his brother’s eye twitch, a small movement of discomfort or impatience he couldn’t quite tell, did he finally speak, his tone wry and bored and not at all giving away how he was already imagining all the ways his brother could serve him.

“State your business.” He watched the way Izuna shifted his weight at the command, how his shoulders tensed as if he was holding himself back.

“My business is, as always, to serve my king - and, by extension, his kingdom.” Madara raised an expectant eyebrow in lieu of a verbal response, making it understood that his brother should continue. He did so after a short pause, doing exactly what a good subordinate _shouldn’t_ do and looking his king in the eyes as he spoke. “If it would please your highness, I would prove my loyalty to the throne by servicing him.”

Madara leaned back in his seat, acting as if to mull the idea over in his head. They both knew at this point he wouldn’t turn Izuna away, not after clearing the room, not after allowing the offer to stand between them. If he wasn’t in the mood he would’ve shooed him off at the start, would have told him the ‘missive’ could wait until later.

It didn’t matter what they both knew or not. What mattered was the way Izuna’s pupils dilated with interest, how he was clearly struggling not to fidget, and how he loved every reminder that Madara was in control.

He wanted to service his king. Not his brother, not then anyway, and Madara might not have been the best at playing up his position in their intimate encounters but he was all too willing to give it his all. And what better way than to make the impatient brat wait like the good little peon he should be?

“Approach.” He could see how Izuna had to hold himself back at the command, his brother stepping up onto the dias as calmly as one could when they wanted to lurch forward. Madara had to hide a smirk behind his hand, pulling off the motion as he leaned to one side and resting his chin in his palm. When his brother stood but a foot in front of him he drug his gaze unhurriedly down his body, examining him, determining his worth.

Of course, Izuna was more than worthy. Brat he might have been but he was _Madara’s_ brat, and no matter that it went against everything he’d ever been taught Madara would have given the kingdom and more for his little brother.

Flicking his gaze to the floor was all the approval he gave Izuna, expecting him to kneel. When his brother did so with no further instruction it caused an unexpected thrill of power to shudder through him, made erotic by the sight of the man on his knees just for him.

“Do I have permission to touch the king?” Izuna’s tongue darted out to wet his lips, peering up through his eyelashes. All Madara did was give a curt nod in response, forcing himself not to move when his brother did so, not to twitch as those clever hands ran up his inner thighs, nudging them apart to allow Izuna room between them.

He had to swallow when one hand palmed the already growing bulge in his pants, fighting back the impatient noise, the instinct to snap at Izuna to get on with it. Patience was a foreign concept to the both of them when it came to sexual acts, born out of the fear of discovery and Madara’s personal habit of burning too hot too fast no matter what emotion took over him.

But a king is patient if only because he knows those beneath him will follow his command, and Madara knew from years of experience that Izuna would serve him well.

The brat was certainly taking his time, though. Working his belt loose with one hand while the other massaged at his thigh, face so close he could almost feel hot breath on his cock despite the layers between them. Madara’s own hand itched to pull him closer, to tangle itself in hair so like his own and shove him closer to find some relief.

Gods, he was already getting worked up, and his pants hadn’t even been untied yet.

With the ties of his pants loosened, Izuna scooted closer, taking a moment to nuzzle at his still-clothed cock, eyes fluttering closed as he ghosted his lips across the material. Pushing his luck, testing Madara’s patience, whatever one would call such clear teasing it was wearing Madara’s already limited patience even thinner. Imagining those lips currently leaving open-mouthed kisses on his cock stretched around it instead, knowing how good that wet heat felt taking him to the hilt, swallowing around him-

Izuna licked a strip up his shaft, and it was just that side of not enough to make Madara nearly crack.

He only just caught himself in time. Managed to cover the frustrated groan of his brother’s name by tightening his jaw, catching Izuna’s eyes when they peered up at him curiously.

“My patience wears thin, Izuna. Either do your duty and serve your king, or leave.” He sent a silent prayer to whatever gods would listen that his brother didn’t try to leave - knowing the brat, he’d at least be tempted to do so, if only to see what Madara would do.

It sent an all new rush of arousal down his spine when all Izuna did was nod, licking his lips again as he gave the cloth one final kiss as he shifted the material down and freed him at last. Cold air hit his length but he barely had time to register it before Izuna was on him, a firm grip making him jerk forward while he ran parted lips up the underside of his shaft, drawing a curse out under Madara’s breath.

The way Izuna worshiped was downright sinful. How he held him in place and mouthed at the side of his shaft, letting just the tip of his tongue flick at the skin there. Took his time working his way up, pausing to lap at the head as if eager to taste him.

For someone seemingly eager to please his king, Izuna seemed to be doing everything in his power to break Madara’s control. Touching him just enough to tease but never _enough_ , onyx eyes, mirrors of his own, studying his every twitching movement and drinking his every hitched breath in.

His lips felt like heaven when they finally took part of him in, and Madara had to bit his own fist to keep quiet when his brother suckled on the tip. Before he could catch himself his free hand found the back of Izuna’s head. There was no masking the movement as anything beyond being caught up in the moment, the smirk pulling at the mouth around him showing he’d been caught. Instead of jerking his hand back and losing face further Madara rested in there, tangling a few small locks in his fingers and leaning back in his throne to better watch that wicked mouth take him in.

And what an excellent show it was for his gaze alone. Watching as his brother sank lower, taking him in until his nose sat in dark curls. How lewd he looked with his mouth stretched open, lips pink and wet with saliva, heady lust glazing his eyes over. Curiosity had Madara shifting in his spot, reaching with his foot until he was nudging against the undeniable evidence of just how aroused Izuna was to be serving him in such a fashion.

“Serve me well, take what your king gives you,” Madara loosened his hand from Izuna’s hair, brushing his fingertips thoughtfully down his brother’s cheek before leaving it to rest on his thigh, “and he might be gracious enough to allow you to relieve yourself.”

That promise, if one could call it that, was all it took for Izuna to take his duty seriously. No longer willing to take his sweet time, Izuna pressed his tongue flat against him as he bobbed his head, swallowing around him and dragging an unwitted curse out of Madara’s throat.

Madara would be the first to admit he’d been rather promiscuous in his earlier years. There had been little end to the number of people willing and eager to be with royalty, whether for the thrill or to gain favor it mattered little to him at the time. Yet out of all the dozens of partners he’d had over the years not a one of them came close to driving him wild like Izuna could with just his mouth. How he would moan with unabashed and legitimate pleasure, the sound and vibrations sending shudders through him. The way he’d pull back and lavish the head with attention right before swallowing him whole once more, choking a moan out past his kingly facade. Madara’s knuckles were white where they gripped the arm of his throne, desperately clinging to the mask of aloofness and rapidly finding it a vain effort when every inch of his being cried out for him to take hold of his brother’s head once more, to thrust into that blissful wet-heat and find his release.

As Izuna persistently chipped away at his self-control, more and more soft gasps and words escaped him, Madara biting his lower lip raw in an attempt to keep them at bay. Both sitting still and remaining silent was no longer possible, muscles twitching and hips gently rocking while he remained only vaguely aware he was even doing so.

He had come dangerously close to the edge by the time he broke, head hitting the back of his seat hard as he blindly reached for his brother, cursing as he moaned. “ _Fuck_ , Izuna, just a little more. Faster, _gods like that_.”

One hand working the base of his cock, that knowing, smug glint in his brother’s eyes while he sucked and swallowed around him, and Madara was shaking apart only moments later, panting as his orgasm ripped through him and left him breathless.

High off of the ecstacy thrumming through him, Madara paid little mind to the weight crawling into his lap, accepting his little brother with open arms and letting his head lull to the side and rest atop the one pillowed against his shoulder. It was low cursing and the rustle of fabric that keyed him in, eyes cracking open to watch as Izuna desperately worked himself off in his pants, unashamed to take his own pleasure and far too close to the edge to care anyway.

When Izuna’s movements stilled as well, a jaw-slacked moan spelling his end, Madara wrapped his arm tighter around his brother’s waist to pull him closer. Neither of them spoke while they came down, taking a few minutes to nuzzle into each other, to enjoy the quiet after-bliss embrace of lovers discovering nirvana together.

It was moments like these, stolen between dry meetings with even dryer elders, that made Madara grateful for his place in the kingdom. Knowing that he was above any social demands for ‘decency’ with a more ‘acceptable’ partner, that he could protect Izuna from any fall out with a simple flick of his wrist to dismiss any punishment or claims against his brother’s person. That not a single person within his realm could force his love out of his arms, or would dare to interrupt his privacy even within his throne room.

Knowing that Izuna had a kink for serving his king only made it all the better, and as Madara tucked his most precious person up under his chin all he could think of was how great this day had turned out for him.


End file.
